


Losing Control

by Peeko



Series: Forget About the Math for a Second [3]
Category: Numb3rs (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, rated mature for language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-04-21
Packaged: 2020-01-23 04:26:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18542242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peeko/pseuds/Peeko
Summary: Loving Charlie is almost alarmingly easy for Ian. The only problem? Charlie and Don are a package deal. And Ian is not entirely sure he has enough self-control not to murder his soulmate's brother.





	Losing Control

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so glad so many people are liking this series and I'm sorry this took so long but I hope you enjoy it! The next part in the series will be a multi-chapter episode fic so hope you stick around for that one too! :)

Ian Edgerton prides himself on being a man that is always in control. 

It came with the job, the need to be able to know, at any moment, exactly how he is going to breathe, when he will finally move that small but deadly amount after hours of lying in wait in total stillness. Although, if he is being honest with himself, his need for control probably shaped his career choice more than the other way around. After years of bouncing around foster care, of being taken from one good home to be placed in a bad one and back again at the whim of whatever social worker had decided to come to work that day, he supposes that his desire to be the master of his own destiny is somewhat understandable. 

Yes, Ian Edgerton knows that he can be charitably described as liking to be in control (the uncharitable description, according to his foster sister, is control freak, but Ian mostly chooses to ignore Sarah when she says that). So, it is rather ironic that the best two months of his life have been characterised by a severe lack of control. In fact, ever since he had watched Charlie Eppes walk up those stairs, waving his arms around wildly as he excitedly talked about wind speed variables and their role in determining point of origin, Ian can’t help but feel that he has lost complete control of his life. That somewhere between saying his words and professing his disbelief in guns, the little professor had somehow wrested control of the driver’s wheel, relegating Ian to a willing passenger in his own life. 

So, when Ian is forced to sit there and listen to his soulmate breakdown in tears with no way to get to him, no way to offer any kind of comfort other than words over a phone, it is, perhaps, understandable that he is a bit fucking upset. Which is probably why, instead of falling unconscious into bed after being awake for over 36 hours, he is instead listening to Don Eppes’ voicemail instructions _for the third fucking time_. 

“Eppes, Edgerton. Call me back. _Now_.”

Jesus, he is fucking tired. He has spent the last four weeks on loan to Fugitive Recovery, chasing a murderer up and down Texas. Something that he would normally enjoy, except for the fact that right after _finally_ finding your soulmate is just about the last time anyone wants to be trapped on a never-ending case in the middle of godforsaken Texas. 

Leaning his head on the wall behind the chair he is sitting on, Ian forces himself to close his eyes and take a few moments to try to calm himself. He slowly exhales, forcing his left leg to stop bouncing, and releasing the death grip he has on his phone. He knows he needs to calm down, but he can’t get the sound of Charlie’s sobs out of his head. The last time he was wound up this tightly was right after he shot the bastard who almost killed Charlie. After racing down to see if his professor was unharmed, he had had to leave the scene almost immediately or he was liable to kill the idiot who let his soulmate enter _an active shooter situation_ with his bare fucking hands. Currently, only the fact that there are two states between him and Don is keeping him from tracking the asshole down and removing one of his kidneys with a rusty hunting knife. And the fact that doing that would probably upset Charlie. And if his last conversation with Charlie has taught him anything, Ian will do almost anything to make sure Charlie is never unhappy. 

Dragging his head from the wall, Ian opens his phone and pulls up his messages, smiling as he reads Charlie’s last text describing how Professor Fleinhardt had apparently once again gotten lost on campus. 

**C: Seriously Ian, I didn’t even know that CalSci had a linguistics department! Why would Larry even be in that part of campus???**

He is just typing out a reply when his phone starts ringing, Don’s name coming up on the screen. Ian can’t help but groan, leaning his head back against the wall and trying to convince himself that he needs to be civil for Charlie’s sake, at least. 

“Nice of you to return my calls, Don.”

“What do you want, Ian?”

“I want you to stay the fuck out of my relationship with Charlie, Don.”

Okay, so civil didn’t last very long. 

“Excuse me?” Ian chooses to heed the warning tone in Don’s voice, and tries again, reminding himself that he needs Don to actually stay on the line and not hang up in a fit of pique. 

“I got a call from Charlie last night.” Silence greets Ian’s pronouncement. 

If Ian was the type to label silences (which, according to Sarah, he definitely is), he would classify this silence as guilty with hints of trepidation and righteous indignation. Deciding that he was unwilling to sit on the phone with Don Eppes for the next five hours in strained silence waiting for him to respond, Ian tries again. 

“He was upset. _Very_ upset. And imagine my surprise when I learnt that the reason why my soulmate was near hysterical was because his asshole older brother actually told him that his soulmate, _his soulmate_ , wouldn’t want him.” 

“You’re point being, Edgerton?” Okay, fuck nice. Ian was done with nice and moving on to straight up fury.

“My point, you fuckhead, is stay the hell out of my relationship with Charlie, Don. You think I’m being an asshole, great. Come tell me. You think I’m not good enough for him, or I’m away too often, or that I don’t fucking take the garbage out regularly enough, you come to me. You don’t ever, _ever_ , fucking tell Charlie that he’s not good enough for me, or that I don’t want him.”

“Fine. You want me to come to you? Here is me coming to you. Stay the fuck away from my brother, Edgerton.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You heard me. Stay away from him. You think I haven’t heard the rumours about you, Edgerton? About what happens to suspects when they are with you? Can you honestly say that you have any right being within a hundred yards of Charlie?”

At Don’s words, ice seems to settle throughout Ian’s blood stream. He knows exactly what Don is alluding to. And the hypocrisy of it all is honestly so mind-blowing, Ian can’t stop a bark of laughter bursting out from him. 

“Seriously, Eppes. That’s the best you’ve got? Do I even need to mention the shit I heard about you and Cooper getting up to in Fugitive Recovery? Seems a bit fucking hypocritical to call me out on the exact same shit, don’t you think?”

Charged silence greets Ian’s reply, so he takes the moment to try to get himself under control again, evening out his breathing and softening the death grip he currently has on his phone. After a few moments, Ian comes to the conclusion that Don is unlikely to say anything else, so he figures he might as well get this clusterfuck of a call over and done with. 

“Regardless of what you may think, Don, I am a good agent and a good man. And I will _never_ hurt Charlie. And when I tell Charlie about those rumours, yes _when_ you hypocritical bastard, we will work out how it affects our relationship. Not you. Until then, I will repeat this one more time to get it through your head: _stay the fuck out of my relationship with Charlie_. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.”

“Good. Have a good day, Don.”

“Fuck you, Edgerton.”

Disconnecting the call, Ian can’t help but let loose a low groan. Don Eppes is going to make his life difficult, he can just see it now. And the frustrating thing is that he knows there is nothing he can do about it. Charlie loves his big brother, but more than that, he idolises him. Which means that, like it or not, Don Eppes has just become a big fucking part of Ian’s life. 

God, Ian hopes he doesn’t end up killing the self-righteous bastard.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are the wind beneath my wings!


End file.
